What She Didn't Know (What She 1) - Page 30
“Like it was yesterday,” I replied. And I did. All of it. Every touch. Every single pinch. Every command.
I gave her what she needed. Even if it hurt.
16
My phone rang off the hook. I was twenty-six years old, and I’d never felt this lost. Yet I couldn’t answer my phone. If I did, I’d have to own up to what I’d done. I could barely look at myself in the mirror. What I’d done to Charlie…it wasn’t right. I felt dirty on the inside, in my soul. I felt tarnished, and no amount of polish could rub it away. I felt like no one could ever wash me clean.
The phone rang again. I ignored it,
pacing back and forth across my apartment.
Suddenly, the door of my apartment flew open and my dad stormed inside. He stopped when he saw me and ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus,” he said. “You’re alive.”
Was I? Was I really? I wasn’t sure. I felt dead inside.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” I continued my pacing.
“Your mother has been calling you all day. You didn’t answer.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“With what?” He glared at me.
“Selling my soul,” I replied.
He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”
“It means that I’m not sure who I am anymore,” I said on a thick laugh. “Where I stop and where she starts, I don’t know where that is anymore.”
“You mean Lynn.” He said the words quietly.
“And all the rest of them!” I shouted.
“What did you do?”
What didn’t I do? “Dad,” I said quietly, “you don’t want to know.”
“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he said. He sat down on the edge of the couch.
“Don’t try to shrink me, Dad,” I warned.
“I’m not shrinking,” he said. “I’m fathering.”
“I can’t talk to you about this.”
“You need to talk to someone.”
I turned to face him, flinging my arms wide. “Then find me someone to talk to!” I shouted. My voice choked at the end, clogged with emotion.
“Okay,” he said quietly. He crossed to the phone and dialed. “He’s fine,” I heard him say. “He needs to talk to someone. Call Greg. See if he has any appointments open. If he doesn’t, tell him to make one, now. I’ve never seen Mason so…unraveled.” He lifted his eyes to look at me. He covered the mouthpiece. “Your mother put me on hold,” he explained and rolled his eyes.
I sat down and then immediately jumped back up. It felt like my legs were sparking.
After about a minute, Dad spoke into the phone again, his voice quiet. “Okay. We’re on the way.” He paused, staring at me. “No, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want us there. I’m going to take him and stay in the waiting room… Yes, I’m sure. Don’t you dare come there. Sometimes a boy needs his father and this is one of those times. He needs me. Let me handle this one— I’m sure. Damn it, I said I’m sure. Fuck. Hang up now,” he ordered. He waited for a second, and then he hung up too. He motioned for me to rise. “Come on,” he said.
“Where are we going?”
“To talk to someone.”
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